


The Unknown Variable

by Nativestar



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Series, army days, sandbox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nativestar/pseuds/Nativestar
Summary: Mac uses whatever is around him to improvise solutions but Jack is a new variable, one he doesn’t yet know the properties of and Jack is quite happy for it to stay that way. However, their jobs are dangerous and Jack slowly realises that Mac isn’t like any other bomb nerd he’s ever worked with...Set pre-series, somewhere in the middle of the 64 days Jack had left before he re-upped.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 88





	The Unknown Variable

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Pandi19 for your title magic!

Jack Dalton is not like any other overwatch.

And despite being the most junior EOD tech Mac has had quite a few of them. How else would he know that no one wants to work with him?

Mac knows none of _them_ would be able to take out four men with just two bullets. So either Jack was a really lucky shot or-- no, Mac corrects himself. Once maybe, but twice? That wasn’t luck, that was skill. A lot of it.

Jack also seems like he’s going to stick around. He hasn’t requested a reassignment as far as Mac’s aware and its been a month already with another month to go. Its the longest an overwatch has worked with him since Pena and Mac wonders if its because Jack is starting to warm up to him or if he’s just decided to stick it out as he’s so close to getting home.

Mac leans against their humvee and shuts his eyes. He has a headache building. He took some painkillers when Jack wasn’t watching but he could really do with a distraction while he waits for them to kick in. He can hear Jack rummaging in the back of the humvee but there’s no running commentary for once, the man who could talk for Texas is strangely quiet.

“What did you do before this, Jack?” He asks.

“You mean, before I was your overwatch?”

“Yeah.”

Mac opens his eyes when something nudges his elbow and he gratefully takes the bottle of water off Jack who’s now standing next to him.

“Drink up. You’re doing that squinty thing you do when you’re getting a headache.” Jack orders. “Before you, I was overwatch for other bomb nerds and like I said, they all made it home alive.”

Mac downs half the bottle in one go, he already knew that, he wasn’t lying when he said he’d heard about Jack before they’d met, EOD techs liked to gossip and moan just as much as anyone.

“Okay, but you’re like twice my age, I know you haven’t been an overwatch this whole time.”

“I am not _twice_ your age, you cheeky shit.” Jack says, but with a smile. “You know I found a grey hair the other day?”

“Yeah, I do, because you complained about it _all day_.”

Jack shrugs. “I’m just saying, never had one before I met you. It’s entirely your fault, Angus.”

Mac shakes his head.

“Whatever, and I know you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work, so spill. What did you do before this?”

Jack turns to face Mac, his face deadly serious and unreadable. “That’s classified. Stop asking.”

Mac just stares at him. You get to know someone pretty quickly when you spend all day every day working with them but still, he has only known Jack a month. He can’t tell if Jack’s going to crack a shit-eating smile or threaten to kill him next.

Okay then. Mac decides to approach from a different angle.

“Well, how long have you been in the Army? That can’t be classified.”

Jack side eyes him for a second and then apparently decides to give him a bone.

“This time around? Couple of years.”

Their radios squawk and Jack’s quick to answer, bringing the conversation to an end. It’s back on the road for them. Thankfully, the painkillers are now starting to kick in because it looks like its going to be another long day.

Jack’s given him a nugget. Perhaps more than he realised. But if he thinks that Mac will be satisfied with that then… he’s got a lot to learn about Angus Macgyver too.

* * *

Mac tries to ask around, discreetly. But all he gets back is how Dalton is loud and brash. A knuckle-dragger and opinionated. Which, yeah, there’s an element of truth to that but Mac knows enough about Jack now to know that’s not the _entire_ truth. He’s a good soldier. The best marksman Mac’s ever met. And it didn’t take Mac long to figure out that its not just his job to protect others, its in his very nature.

All further attempts by Mac to find out more are met with a solid wall of nothing. And that’s revealing enough by itself.

Mac’s willing to bet its an alphabet agency. If he were a gambling man he’d also bet on CIA. But getting Jack to confirm even that is going to be a challenge.

But Mac’s always enjoyed a good challenge.

* * *

Mac is like a dog with a bone, Jack decides. He’s been trying to guess what countries Jack had been to _all morning_. This whole thing had started out fun, a way for Jack to hold something over him, to know something Mac didn’t know for once but Jack had underestimated how relentless Mac would be and what did it matter anyway? They get out the humvee to deal with their fifth callout of the day and Jack decides to flip the tables.

“Man, what is it with you and what I did before this? What did _you_ do before this?”

“I was studying engineering at MIT.” Mac says matter of fact, as if showing he has no secrets is going to have some kind of effect on Jack.

Jack freezes. Its not like he didn’t know Mac was smart. Hell, as far as he was concerned the kid was a genius and definitely ought to be in a college, not kicking up sand and risking his life. But he didn’t realise Mac had actually _had_ that and walked away from it.

“Go ahead. You can say it.” Mac’s voice is resigned.

“Say what?”

“How I’m wasting my life, choosing to do this rather than get a degree.”

“I wasn’t going to say it.” Jack denies. He might have been _thinking_ it, but its not a lie, he’s sure Mac has his reasons, he knows enough about Mac to know the army isn’t an act of youthful rebellion. “I can’t say I’m not surprised though, why’d you walk away?”

Mac shrugged. “This was just something I needed to do, you know?”

It’s not much of an answer, but strangely Jack finds that he understands the kid. There’s been times in his life that he’s needed to do something or go somewhere, but finding a way to put that into words and explain that to someone else is hard. He’s not sure his family has ever truly understood why he does the job, as much as they love him.

Watching Mac as he walks away, Jack wonders what his family had to say about his decision to not only drop out of college but join the Army. Mac’s never really spoken about anyone back home and that’s been enough to stop Jack from asking so far. He’s not known the kid that long, its not his business to go poking around at what could possibly be painful wounds.

* * *

A couple days later, Mac watches Jack stare at a Black Hawk taking off and there’s something in his eyes that looks like either nostalgia or longing to Mac. He’s not sure but he has a hunch…

“You know how to fly, Jack?” Mac asks, his tone light and not even looking at Jack.

“Yeah, but not one of those beauties.”

“Choppers or planes?”

“Both, its a useful skill to have when you need to make a quick get away.”

“When did you need to make a quick getaway?”

Jack looks at him this time, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “When don’t I, hoss?” He grins. And its a knowing grin. Mac isn’t going to get anything else out of him today about his flying skills.

Still.

It’s another thing Mac’s learnt about Jack and another piece of the puzzle. And over the course of the next week, Mac makes a few more discoveries. Jack gives him little breadcrumbs and hints of what he’s been trained to do, places he’s been, jobs he’s worked. It paints an impressive picture in Mac’s mind even with so many missing pieces and he finds himself re-evaluating his idea of the man yet again.

One day they get jumped by a couple of armed men and Jack has them disarmed and on the floor before Mac even processes what is happening. Its smooth, efficient and non-lethal and speaks of hours upon hours of practice and training. Mac’s impressed enough that he asks Jack to teach him the move and it warms him more than he’ll admit when Jack agrees without teasing or commentary.

There’s no doubt in Mac’s mind that Jack’s spent some time in Special Forces.

* * *

Jack isn’t sure why he’s still withholding the truth from Mac. Yes, a lot of his missions _are_ classified, but the kid isn’t asking for specifics. Not yet anyway. And he’s disclosed more to his previous techs and team mates without them even asking.

But there is something very satisfying about having something the know-it-all wunderkind doesn’t know. And it is fun watching Mac try to figure it out. Because he is still a genius and he’s getting more things right than wrong. He’s also surprisingly observant, noticing the details in throwaway comments that even Jack doesn’t realise he’s making.

He’d actually make a good agent with the proper training.

Jack might even make some calls on his behalf, if he’s interested at the end of all this.

Although, if he had any sense he’d walk away and find a nice, safe, civilian job.

* * *

Near as Jack can figure, Mac is making his hundredth attempt to find out Jack’s previous work history. This time he’s not even trying to be subtle or to trick an answer out of Jack. Mac’s walking towards where the suspected bomb was called in while Jack hangs back, making his way to the best spot to cover him. Jack’s noticed that casual chatter helps Mac, keeps him steady when things are tense so he’s happy to indulge him with a few non-answers.

“So, I figure it was the army straight out of high school.”

“Reasonable assumption.” Jack concedes without confirming it.

“Then CIA at some point, which you refuse to confirm nor deny so I know I’m right about that.”

“I can neither confirm--”

“Shut up, Jack.” Mac laughs.

“I thought you wanted--”

BOOM

Jack’s knocked off his feet, stunned as he looks up at a sky that’s filtered through dust and sand, his ears ringing from the explosion. It takes a second for his lungs to remember how to function and then he’s coughing, rolling to his side as his training kicks in, scanning the area for threats and--

“Mac!”

He pops up into a crouch and then when nothing screams at him in pain, he continues, moving low towards the source of the explosion, where Mac was standing.

“Mac! Mac, talk to me buddy.” He says as loud as he dares. Dust and debris are making it hard to see if they’re alone or about to get shot at. “Where you at?”

Jack’s ears are still ringing and he hopes that the silence means he just can’t hear Mac because dammit, _none_ of his guys have gone home in boxes before, he’ll be damned if this kid is going to, especially as he’s started to grow on Jack.

“Dammit, Mac! Answer me!”

He’s nearly where he last remembers seeing Mac and as some of the dust clears, he sees a military issue boot lying on the ground. And he sighs in relief when he sees its still attached to its owner. But Mac’s lying on his side, almost face down, unresponsive and a large pool of blood is gathering by his head.

Jack takes a hand off his rifle, refusing to look at the kid while he carries on scanning for hostiles as he checks Mac’s pulse on his neck. The coil of dread in his stomach relaxes slightly as he feels a strong but fast pulse under his fingers.

“Thank you.” He whispers as he decides they’re probably alone, at least right now and he can give Mac his full attention before he needs to figure out how to get them the hell out of here and somewhere with more cover.

It only takes one glance at the damage to the humvee for Jack to know they aren’t going to be driving out of here so he quickly calls it into base and extracts a promise of an evac within the next hour. With that done he turns his attention back to Mac and his hands hover for a second, unsure what to do and how to help. There’s blood coating the side of Mac’s face, creeping down his neck and pooling beneath his head. It’s a _lot_.

The soldier part of Jack is saying head wounds bleed a lot, it’s likely not as bad as it looks. The part of Jack that’s got to know the kid, that _likes_ the kid and not just for what he can do is saying _tha_ _t much_ _blood_ _isn’t good_.

His training kicks in and he’s pulling out a pressure bandage from his vest as he unclips Mac’s helmet to allow him better access to the laceration that’s just underneath. Smaller cuts pepper Mac’s face, and if that’s the only bit of shrapnel that Mac took then they are very very lucky.

Thankfully, Mac isn’t as out of it as Jack thought. When he puts the dressing on and holds it in place, applying pressure, Mac’s eyes flutter open as he weakly tries to turn his head away from the pain Jack’s inflicting.

“Sorry, sorry, kid. Gotta stop this bleeding though.”

Jack looks back down the street, he can’t see anyone yet, friend or foe, and when he turns back to Mac he’s shutting his eyes again.

“No. No, no, no, Mac.” Jack moves one of his hands from Mac’s head to his shoulder, jostling it to try and rouse him. “No sleeping on me, now.”

Jack can see the effort it takes for Mac to keep his eyes open, but the kid does it anyway.

“That’s it. Eyes on me, soldier.”

“Jack.” He mutters and while Jack’s grateful he recognises him and remembers his name, he’s not happy with the way Mac’s eyes are glazed and distant.

“That’s right. Do you wanna tell me your name too, bud?”

“Mac.” He says. “twenty third of March 1990, we’re in Afganistan and today’s, uh, I can’t remember if it’s Tuesday or Wednesday?”

“It’s Wednesday.” Jack’s pretty sure it is anyway. It’s just a reminder that they’ve been pulling way too many long shifts recently. And he guesses its not Mac’s first run-in with a head injury if his answers are anything to go by. And _1990_? Kid’s even younger than he thought.

Confident that Mac’s brains aren’t going to be leaking out of his ears any time soon, Jack decides its time they got gone. Pronto.

Jack wedges Mac’s helmet back on, now at a jaunty angle thanks to the dressing, ignoring how Mac bites back a cry of pain. There could be hostiles in the area and Mac does not need another head injury right now.

“Okay, we have to go now, Mac. It’s not safe here. Do you think you can walk?”

“Do I have a choice?” Mac mumbles.

“I wouldn’t be asking if we did.” Jack’s pretty sure Mac doesn’t have a spinal injury, he’s moving his head and limbs enough, but there could be other injuries. Moving him isn’t ideal but they’re too exposed out here to stay and wait for medical transport.

Mac blinks at Jack in confusion and Jack sighs. “We need to move to somewhere more defensible, to hole up until we get an evac. If I help, can you walk?”

Mac swallows and shifts his legs a bit as if he’s testing them out before he gives Jack a breathy “Yeah.”

“Okay. We’ll get you sitting first, then all the way.” Jack leans down and slides Mac’s arm around his shoulders. “On three? One, two, three.”

Jack keeps it smooth and steady, getting Mac upright then supporting his back and head as Mac closes his eyes against the tilt-a-whirl his brain is no doubt giving him. Jack’s had enough experience with concussions both treating and suffering them, that he isn’t surprised when Mac lists to the side, nearly falling over if it wasn’t for Jack’s hands, to expel his lunch on the ground.

“Easy,” Jack comforts as he rubs Mac’s shoulder and leans him back against him to rest while he hands over his canteen. “Don’t swallow.”

Once Mac’s washed out his mouth, Jack quickly screws the cap back on.

“I hate to rush you, Mac. But I have no idea how long before we have company.”

Mac just grunts and Jack figures that’s as close as he’s going to get for permission. He repeats the process of sliding Mac’s arm around his shoulder and counts to three again. Mac wavers in a way that makes Jack think he has very little idea of which way is up right now, but he’s mostly taking his own weight which makes Jack’s job a lot easier. Jack pauses for a moment to see if they’re going to get a repeat viewing of Mac’s lunch contents but after a couple of swallows, Mac manages a small nod and even opens his eyes to squint at the road ahead.

* * *

Jack doesn’t take them too far before he finds an abandoned building that he quickly assesses as suitable if they need to make a stand. Mac’s leaning heavier on Jack now so he props Mac up in the corner of the room, righting him when he starts tilting the wrong way.

He quickly clears the two other rooms before returning to Mac and crouching in front of the window. Its quiet outside, almost too quiet. He glances at Mac, his jaw is clenched and his breathing is short but measured and Jack wonders if its the pain or nausea he’s trying to control. He has a hand wrapped around his side, buried underneath his flak jacket.

“You hurtin’ anywhere else?” Jack asks, suddenly worried that he’s missed something.

Mac brings his hand out from under his jacket, showing the palm to Jack, its dirty but free of blood. “I’m not bleeding.”

Which isn’t an answer but considering Jack can’t do anything about any internal injuries anyway he’ll let it go for now. Mac’s breathing is fast, but doesn’t seem to be laboured. He’s pale but that could be due to the concussion and head laceration, which has almost soaked through the bandage wrapped around Mac’s head. Really, the best thing for Mac right now is for Jack to get him out of here and back to professional medical help.

He updates base with their new location and gets another ETA on their evac. It’s a good half hour away minimum, they’re not the only unit down and as Mac and Jack are both talking and mobile they’re triaged down the line and will have to wait.

Jack looks out the window again. Still deserted, the calmness a direct contrast to the way his heart is still hammering in his chest. He takes a deep breath, trying to slow it down, they’re in a secure position, he’ll be able to see any company long before they on top of them and although Mac’s injured he’s stable for now. It’s just a waiting game to see who turns up first, the cavalry or whoever planted the bomb.

He glances over at Mac, who’s head is now tilted to the side, resting on the wall with his eyes shut. He looks almost peaceful but if someone comes down that road then they’ll need to move. Sleep is a luxury Jack can’t offer Mac. Assuming it _is_ sleep. The dark thought crosses Jack’s mind as he tries to remember what the symptoms are for bleeding on the brain and he suddenly really, _really_ needs to hear Mac’s voice.

“Mac!” Jack says sharply, but Mac doesn’t move. “Hey, no sleeping on me, kid.” Jack reaches across and grabs the straps on Mac’s shoulder, giving him a rough shake. “Sorry, Mac, but we might need to hustle and you can’t sleep with a head injury.” Mac groans but his head wobbles upright and he squints at Jack.

“mm up.” He mumbles, even as his eyes start drooping down again.

“No, you’re not.” Jack sighs but sits back by the window again, this time shaking Mac’s foot that’s stretched out in front of him. “Eyes open, buddy.”

Mac peels his eyes open. “Happy?” He asks.

“Ecstatic.”

Mac gives him a single finger salute that makes Jack laugh and the tight band of stress around his chest releases slightly. He scans the road outside again, there’s a dog making its way down it, away from the bomb blast. The dog’s in no hurry and doesn’t seem bothered by anything so Jack starts to believe they really are safe here for the moment.

He turns back to Mac only to find his eyes shut, _again_.

“Mac!” Jack calls out as he slaps his boot, hard. He gets an answer quicker this time.

“Mm ‘wake.”

“Sorry, kid, but I need to see your eyes open to believe it.”

Mac frowns and opens his eyes, the hurt behind them makes Jack feel like shit for making him do it, but he has no choice.

“Why?” Mac asks, sounding like the teenager he so often looks like.

“Because if we get company we might have to move fast. And the time I spend trying to wake you up could be the difference between getting out of here alive or not at all. I’m sorry, I know it sucks.”

“It’s okay,” Mac sighs. “I’m tired though.”

“I know you are.” Jack says, as if he didn’t feel enough like a heel. He looks out the window again. Still clear. And when he turns back, Mac’s eyes are hooded and bleary, but open.

“Hey,” He taps Mac’s foot. “Talk to me, bud.”

“About what?”

“Anything you like, quantum spaghetti theory or… or how to make those fire crackers that you claim weren’t your handiwork except everyone knows that they were.”

“Do you mean spaghettification?” Mac asks.

“Yes?” Jack winces. All he remembers is something from an episode of The Simpsons and black holes. It’s probably not even quantum physics related but he finds that getting stuff wrong riles Mac up and he’ll take a riled up Mac over an unconscious one any day of the week.

“It’s astrophysics.” Mac corrects and Jack smiles. “Its uh… caused by strong forces. Um, gravitational forces.” Mac swallows as if he’s feeling sick again. “A body gets stretched… like spaghetti.” His voice trails off. Jack’s about to nudge him again when he says, “Jack, I don’t wanna talk.”

“Okay, okay.” Jack rubs a hand across his face. “How about I talk? You just listen.”

“’kay.”

“But you gotta promise to keep those eyes open.”

“Promise.”

“Alright.” And suddenly, for possibly the first time in his life, Jack doesn’t know what to say. If talking about science isn’t enough what can Jack possibly say to keep Mac’s interest from slipping? But it doesn’t last long, he shakes his head. He knows what will keep Mac awake and paying attention.

“So, you were right. I signed up for the army straight outta high school.” Jack focuses outside again, the dog has disappeared and there’s no movement anywhere. “Did three years, then applied to be a Delta. And man, if you think basic was tough, its got nothing on the training just to get accepted to Delta.”

He glances back and makes sure Mac’s keeping up his end of the promise. He’s sitting up a bit straighter, blinking heavily but alert so Jack continues.

“Did about 11 years with the boys. When that came to an end, I went to the CIA, put in three years then signed up for this.” Jack’s glossing over a lot of details. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition to the CIA. Or out of the CIA for that matter.

He looks across at Mac and meets his eyes. _Good boy_. Mac’s even smiling a bit.

“I knew it was the CIA.” He whispers.

Jack chuckles, of course he did. He’d probably figured out it was the Deltas too, he just hadn’t worked out the exact timeline. One thing Jack has learnt about Mac is that his brain never stops working overtime which is one of the reasons why the lethargy from the head injury is so concerning to Jack. Suddenly, Mac pales, looking worried, and Jack feels that band around his chest tighten again. Has he missed something? Some other injury that was only now making itself known?

“Why are you telling me this?” Mac asks, his eyes wide with fear. “Am I--” He reaches towards the bandage on his head.

“Hey, don’t touch that now.” Jack commands, its almost soaked through with blood but if there’s a chance its stopped bleeding he doesn’t want Angus Mac-grabby-fingers starting it off again. “And no, you’re not dying. Not on my watch, remember? All my bomb nerds get to go home.”

Mac rests his hand back in his lap, and Jack tries to ignore how his hand is shaking. Mac isn’t dying, but he still needs a doctor.

“You’ve been bugging me for ages about it, so I figured if you were going to finally start listening to me about anything it’d be that.” Jack shoots him a grin and hopes it comes across as reassuring not macabre.

“Right. Your turn now.” Jack continues. “Why is it so important to you to know?”

Mac lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “You’ve seen how I work now. I use what’s around me. You’re always around me, but I can’t use you if I don’t know what you can do.”

Which makes sense, except for the timing of it.

“Okay, lets say I buy that for a hot second. Why now? I’ve been your overwatch for weeks, why not ask before now?”

Mac shrugs again and for a moment Jack’s not sure he’s going to get an answer. “Because you’re still here.” Mac says simply. “I’ve not had the same overwatch for this long before, most get reassigned. Or ask to be reassigned.”

Jack takes a moment to process this; Mac’s been asking because Jack’s been staying.

Huh.

Jack meets Mac’s eyes and realises this kid isn’t nearly as straightforward as he thought he was.

In the distance, Jack hears the sounds of a helicopter engine at the same time as his radio comes to life, giving him instructions for the dust off. Jack smiles sympathetically at Mac, while he’s glad to be leaving, getting Mac up and moving is probably going to as much fun as last time and they both know it. Mac makes the first move, holding his hand out for Jack to help him up.

“Let’s go home, Jack.”

* * *

Mac falls asleep in the chopper. Which impresses Jack, even with the noise, being prodded and stuck with an IV needle, Mac doesn’t so much as flutter an eyelid. The medics don’t appear overly concerned though so Jack takes it to mean his vitals are, if not good, at least outside of any danger zone.

One of the medics comes at Jack, but he waves them off with a shake of his head and a thumbs up. The only thing he’s got under the dirt and grime are bruises.

A hot shower, change of clothes and the worlds shortest debrief with their CO and Jack’s sat next to his bomb nerd’s hospital bed.

Mac’s got a new crisp white dressing covering the wound on his head, with deep bruising seeping out from it and he has a bad case of panda eyes that Jack will probably start teasing him about in a day or two, once things start to get back to normal. He has some spectacular bruising across his chest but only two cracked ribs that thankfully, didn’t cause any further damage. The worst injury really was the head wound and even that wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

Lucky, was the word his doctor had used. If the bomb had gone off just a little bit later then Mac would be in a casket not a bed so Jack’s inclined to agree.

Mac moans and his head rolls on the pillow as Jack waits patiently to see if Mac’s really waking up or will settle back to sleep. Mac groans out a sigh and slowly opens his eyes, they’re only half mast but he’s awake and he immediately notices he has a visitor.

“Jack.” He says quietly, barely above a whisper. He raises his forearm at the elbow, Jack isn’t sure why, he’s not reaching for him, but he catches it and returns it back to the sheets, patting his arm twice for reassurance and leaving his hand there.

“How’re you feeling, kid?”

Mac grins, a dopey version of that half smile he often does and wiggles his arm with the IV. “Floaty.”

“They got you on the good stuff, huh?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“They say how long you’re stuck here?”

Mac grunts an affirmative, then clarifies. “They’re gonna take me off the good stuff soon, then if I can do a lap of the ward tomorrow without getting dizzy they’ll probably release me back to the barracks.” Mac frowns. “I’m going to be on light duty for a while though.”

“Yeah, I figured that.”

“So you’re going to have to get another EOD tech.”

“Nah.” Says Jack and he smiles. “I kinda like the one I’ve got.”

Mac gives him another small smile, its a confused smile, but a smile none the less.

“Were you worried about me?”

“What makes you say that?” Jack asks, he has an image to keep after all and it shouldn’t be that weird for a guy to check up on his partner.

“You’re here.” Mac answers, a shoulder lifting in a shrug.

“Well, you were kinda out of it a bit, just wanted to make sure you didn’t scramble your brains too much. You left a lot of blood back there.” Even though Mac’s laying there, all dopey and clean and healing, Jack’s finding it hard to get rid of the image of him all pale and bloody and not moving.

“Head wounds bleed a lot.” Mac says gently.

“Yeah. I guess yours bleeds even more with all that extra brain power you’re carrying around up there.”

“That’s not really how it works, Jack.”

“Sure felt like it.”

The smile slips off Mac’s face. “Sorry.”

“What for?”

“Scaring you.”

Jack shrugs.

“Just don’t do it again.” He replies, his voice tight. Jack had thought the kid was growing on him, but he couldn’t have been more wrong, Mac was practically under his skin now. It was going to be tough to leave him behind at the end of this tour.

“You know, I’m going to have plenty of time to hear about what you did before this.” Mac says as he shifts carefully onto his side, looking like a kid waiting for his bedtime story.

Jack laughs and resists the urge to ruffle his hair.

“Where do you want me to start, kid?”


End file.
